


shoes you don’t need to fill (because someone else can)

by Batsthesecond



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: (they both get a hug), Angst, Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Course Bruce is in denial though, Fluff, Gen, Grief, Listen this man is in mourning, Or well he’s trying his best anyway, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim’s early days with Bruce, and doesn’t know how to deal with feelings, and he’s trying hard to push Tim away, but Tim worms his way in anyway, insert facepalm here, tw: emotionally abusive parents, tw: self loathing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:14:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25362220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsthesecond/pseuds/Batsthesecond
Summary: Bruce knows it is unfair to Tim to wish he were someone else – Bruce knows it isn’t right but-He still cannot help but expect- he still cannot help the small smile that grows across his face as he says Robin and cannot help the way his face falls every time he remembers that it is not Jay who wears Robin’s colors – it is not his son.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 9
Kudos: 141





	shoes you don’t need to fill (because someone else can)

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Self-Loathing  
> TW: Emotionally abusive parents  
> TW: Grief
> 
> I think that’s it? That’s all I can think about. Other than that, please enjoy this little one shot I finally got around to finishing !! 😊

Bruce knows it is unfair to Tim to wish he were someone else – Bruce _knows_ it isn’t right but-

He still cannot help but expect- he still cannot help the small smile that grows across his face as he says Robin and cannot help the way his face falls every time he remembers that it is not Jay who wears Robin’s colors – it is not his son.

It is the same way he cannot help but be in the Manor and hear the sounds of chatter and quick footsteps and expect Jay to round the corner, to say “Hey, Old Man” with that little twist to his lips and mischief alight in his eyes and- and then Bruce will say a noncommittal “Hn” before abruptly grinning and throwing his kid over his shoulder and listening to Jay’s laugh that brightens everything in Bruce’s life – alive, alive, alive and happy.

His cheeks feel wet and he vaguely wonders why. Then the blurriness dissipates and he can see Tim now – Tim frozen like a deer staring at headlights until he realizes Bruce is staring back at him and then he immediately straightens.

He says, “Hey B, I was just-“ pauses and clutches the book Bruce realizes he is holding tighter, “Never mind, it’s not important” 

And Tim turns on his heel and disappears as quickly as he’d appeared – as quickly as he’d-

Tim’s name is on his tongue and some part of Bruce wants to call him back but in the end his mouth aborts the motion and all that comes forth is a strangled gasp. 

Bruce knows it is not fair to wish – he despises himself for even daring to – but he cannot help Tim with homework when everything in him will be wishing it was another boy, remembering Jay who so loved to learn and-

Bruce makes himself get to his feet and staggers out of the den and towards his bedroom. He locks the door and sinks to the floor. And then he weeps. He weeps without making a sound and lets the pounding ache in his chest consume him.

Patrol that night is rough. Tim asks no questions and is generally silent unless directly spoken to – even then he mainly just nods or hums or shakes his head. Bruce is too consumed by grief to see the way he flinches every time Bruce says Robin because Tim _knows_.

When the ache becomes too much though and Bruce has no way to let it out except poundpoundpound it’s a determined boy who swallows his pain (his fear too) and holds him back. Says, “B, stop” and Bruce stops. He doesn’t know why it is Robin who grounds him – he does not know why it is a child who grounds him – but somehow it pierces through his furious haze and lets a sliver of clarity through.

Tim deserves better though. He deserves better than having the responsibility of making sure Batman doesn’t cross that invisible line.. Tim shouldn’t need to be Robin and Batman shouldn’t need a child to ground himself.

Tim deserves better. Some part in Bruce’s messed up mind understands this and it is that part that pushes Tim harder than Bruce ever did Robin’s predecessors, that brings lecture after lecture down on the boy’s head after one small mistake and holds no reward when Tim does something right.

Because somehow, Bruce hopes Tim will quit if he pushes him hard enough, if he breaks him down hard enough. 

Tim deserves a better life than keeping a barely in control Batman in line and then- 

And then there is the cardinal truth – Batman works alone (because he doesn’t want to lead another Robin to his death – because he will, Bruce knows he will and he can’t-)

Bruce deserves to be alone.

And he not only hopes Tim quits on Robin (quits on Batman), Bruce hopes he quits on him – quits on nudging and pushing and shoving Bruce towards a new day when Bruce wants nothing more than to roll over and block the world out. But no, Tim’s stubbornness can go toe to toe with Bruce’s own so Tim nags and nags and nags, a pushy nuisance that refuses to go away.

What Bruce doesn’t realize is that just being there – cold and detached or insufferable and hard-headed – is more than Tim ever got on a regular basis. 

So Tim won’t leave because Gotham needs Batman and Batman needs Robin 

(and maybe Tim needs Bruce).

And Bruce is so focused on pushing Tim out of his life that he doesn’t even notice he’s grown fond of the boy. He doesn’t know when saying “Robin” keeps the smile on his face - small and unnoticeable to a casual onlooker but a smile nonetheless. 

Doesn’t know when he begins to impulsively ruffle Tim’s black mop of hair when it comes into view. And doesn’t know when the pitter-patter of almost silent footsteps settles something inside him. 

Doesn’t know or refuses to acknowledge it (he’s been told he’s a master of denial. It wasn’t a compliment.)

Denial doesn’t change the fact that something tugs deep inside him _(buried, not hidden, just buried)_ when he’s wrapping up Patrol and a call comes in from Tim. 

He knows it’s Tim because his comm announces Tim’s name just before it starts ringing. The call cuts off before he has a chance to answer though. So Batman ponders for a moment. 

It was exam week and he had made the boy stay home and study. And Tim knew he was out patrolling. Which was why he thought it was so strange for Tim to call him.

Now that he thought about it, he could count on one hand the number of times Tim had called his cell.Texts? Sure - Bruce got a couple memes a day from Tim. But phone calls? Rarely

He swings his way towards the Batmobile and calls Tim back. It rings and rings and goes to voicemail. So Bruce tries again. And again. Finally, he gets into his car and scowls at the air, bringing his hand away from his comm. 

He’s about to call Alfred when Tim’s call comes in again. Bruce answers on the first ring.

“Uh B?” comes the timid greeting.

“Tim.” It’s a greeting and it’s a question.

There’s a nervous breath on the other end, “Oh, yeah - That was an accident. Sorry! Didn’t mean to bother you or anything. Sorry”

“ _Tim._ ” Bruce tries again.

Bruce senses more than he hears the wince. “I’m okay - I was just-” 

There’s silence on the other end.

“I’m heading home.”

“No!” Tim suddenly yelps, “No, really - I just - it’s nothing and it’s stupid and I’m stupid-”

Bruce has the urge to say _Timothy_ but he knows that only causes Tim to close off so instead he firmly says, “ _Tim._ You’re not stupid - you’re brilliant. And I’m coming home and it’s not a problem and _you’re not a problem_.”

“B, I-” More silence and now Bruce is really worried. He steps on the gas pedal harder.

He hears Tim take a deep breath, “I’m just - I’m gonna go to sleep, okay? Sorry, I made you cut patrol a little short. I swear it was an accident.”

And before Bruce can say anything, he hears the click on the call.

He growls and drives a little more aggressively. It’s nothing, _it’s really nothing._

If something bad had happened to Tim, Alfred would know by now and he would’ve told Bruce-

So why does Bruce feel so on edge?

Another call comes in - Alfred.

“Sir, I see you are on your way back. Cutting the evening a little early, are we?”

“Yes, I- Tim- _Yes_.” Bruce finally decides. 

Alfred just hums and Bruce knows the man somehow understood more than Bruce let on. “Very well, no injuries I presume?”

“No,” Bruce grunts.

“I will retire then.” Alfred takes a breath as if he's going to say something else but then sighs almost inaudibly and says, “Good Night, Master Bruce.” 

There’s a click on the other end and Bruce’s grip on the steering wheel tightens.

Soon, he’s roaring into the Batcave. Then it’s like he blinks and he’s suddenly showered off and standing in sweats. He pulls on a t-shirt as he runs up the stairs and then suddenly slows as he nears Tim’s room.

It's only then that he realizes he doesn’t have a plan. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to do.

He pushes open the door, “Tim?” 

Tim’s wide eyes are illuminated by the dim glow of the screen he holds in his hands. He sits up fast and stares.

“Bruce?”

“Hey, Tim.” Bruce says as he lets the light from the hall stream in and turns on the lamp 

“I- what- I _told you_ -” Tim starts but Bruce cuts him off.

“Told me you’d go to sleep?” He asks wryly.

Tim sputters before laughing softly. Then the smile slips off his face and he averts his eyes. 

“What’s wrong, Tim?” Bruce asks as he takes a seat on the side of Tim’s bed.

Tim shakes his head, “Nothing.”

And Bruce doesn’t want to push - _all he ever does is push them away -_ so they sit in silence. 

When Tim realizes he isn’t going to leave, he rolls his eyes and throws himself back, sprawling all over the bed and looking at the ceiling, “Bruce, seriously, go away. You need to sleep.”

Bruce only adjusts himself and Tim sighs. 

“I’m fine - why would I possibly not be fine? I’m totally fine.” Tim shakes his head and continues, “My parents just told me they aren’t coming back for another 3 months - the beauty of different time zones, right? - even though they’d told me they would be here for the end of the school year- for the- for the awards ceremony. And I worked so hard on my exams just to-“

He cuts himself off and Bruce is suddenly glad Tim’s parents are halfway across the globe because if they weren’t- if they weren’t he doesn’t know what he would do. 

Tim sits up and throws his hands in the air. “And they’re also going to miss my 14th birthday but it’s not like that’s anything new”

Putting his head in his hands, he mumbles. “I just- I don’t know why I expected it to be any different this time. Why did I-“

This is the closest he’s come to seeing Tim have a breakdown. Bruce should have seen this coming a mile away. The tell-tale signs had all been there for the past 2 weeks at least - probably more, if Bruce was honest. 

Some part of Bruce had seen them but it had been one problem after another for both Bruce Wayne and Batman and he’d pushed that part away.

It wasn’t his job. He didn’t _get_ to receive the rights for taking care of the boy sitting here in front of him.

Tim wasn’t his and that wasn’t something Bruce was forgetting. 

It didn’t matter that taking care of the boy was all Bruce has done for the past year and a half, each time taking over more and more of Tim’s life. Hating how surprised Tim was at the notion that taking care of himself - feeding himself, clothing himself, _living by himself -_ wasn’t his responsibility. 

Bruce had stepped in where Jack and Janet Drake had not but he’d hesitated to go any further.

Because Tim wasn’t his and it was dangerous to even treat him as otherwise. 

But those shoes were still empty. Just like everything else Bruce had stepped into had been. And sitting in Tim’s room was where it was hitting Bruce full swing that if he didn’t step into those shoes, no one would - or worse, Tim would try to fill them himself. 

Tim deserved better than that. 

Bruce could see Tim closing in on himself again, the outburst gone, tucked into little compartments and then- and then he would take a deep breath and smile and say he was sorry and that he was _fine_ and that really it was nothing. Because Tim was coping emotionally the best way he could with no one else beside him. Because he was trying to fill shoes he wasn’t supposed to fill. That he didn’t _need_ to fill.

Why? Because Bruce was right there and he had done it twice. And he couldn’t afford to think of his own self loathing and failures when the boy in front of him needed someone in his corner.

So he submitted to that tug inside him (buried, not gone) and took Tim into his arms. 

Tim suddenly went limp and it was like a dam broke.

He started crying and shaking his head over and over, clinging onto Bruce like a lifeline. “ _Why did I think it was going to be different this time?_ ” he sobbed. 

“It’s so- so _stupid_ \- An-And It’s not like it’s anything d-different - shouldn’t I be used to it now?”

Bruce just held him, feeling so out of his depth and at the same time such a painful relief that _he could do this - he could hold his thirteen-year old kid who- who wasn’t his kid._

He clenched his jaw and pushing the offending thoughts away. “Tim, it’s not stupid - you hear me? It’s not stupid to want your parents to be there because that is their _job_ . And if they decide they’d rather not, then that is on _them_ \- it is _their_ failure and _their_ loss.” Their loss because they were missing the life of this brilliant boy who still had built himself up on his own. Who could still grin with hope in his eyes even if everything in life who told him not to hope. Too stubborn for his own good and _so so_ _kind._

Bruce hoped his eyes were getting _somewhat_ of that message across to Tim’s red rimmed ones.Tim had learned to read him well - he’d had to because their partnership in their early days had not been a pretty one. And whatever he saw, his shoulders began to shake as he started crying again in earnest and said “ _Thank you, B”_

Bruce squeezed him tighter and out of habit pressed a light kiss to his hair. He settled his head on top of Tim’s and released a breath of relief.

(Maybe Bruce needed Tim too)  
  


-END-

**Author's Note:**

> Tim 👏 Drake 👏 must 👏 be 👏 protected!!  
> Don’t mind me I’m just melting in my feels over here - just thinking about this dynamic with scared to love (Bruce) and scared to hope (Tim) and yeah wow 🤩  
> Thanks and for reading and have a good one!


End file.
